Ironman World Championships 2011

[Andrew]

Overwhelmingly disappointed.

That is how I find myself sitting down to write this at 2:00am on the morning following the race. The disappointment has a number of different facets from having dug so deep, only to result in the worst possible conclusion, to not having the opportunity to complete my five year goal of racing the "double".

I mentioned in a facebook post how nervous I was leading up to this race. Anxious about how I would meet the challenges of the day, and knowing that this race would take me to  my limits. I really didn't know if I was able to do what it takes to be successful here, and how I would handle the challenge. "This race is as much mental as it is physical," people keep saying. And that is a difficult pill to swallow when you have doubts about whether you have the mental fortitude to be successful when the race gets hard...and it ALWAYS gets hard in Kona.

By the time Ginny dropped me off at the race start, I think I had actually used up all my nervous energy in the proceeding days, and actually felt relaxed while I waited for the race to start. The pros had an early start this year 6:30am (I think to help distance the women form the age-group racers, and to give the guys a better chance to break the long-standing course record of 8:07).

Getting to the water was a gong show, with 1800 people filing through a 10 foot wide ramp, and mostly just wanting to stay on the beach, rather than tread water for 30 minutes. But I squeezed my way through and lined up at the front, ready for the challenge of fighting off the hoards of athletes who would be pushing to the front as we got closer to race start. I had swum 56:50 the last time I was here, but the new rules made the blue seventy suit I had worn illegal. I new I would be a little slower, but was confident in my ability to get in with the lead group...until the gun went off. I have NEVER been more physically assaulted at any other race. It was mayhem. I used pretty well every survival skill known to man in that first 1200m, with the addition of some questionable water polo tactics to keep myself afloat. The rest of the swim was uneventful. I found some feet, got into a rhythm, was able to bridge to a pack that had put some distance on us at the turn around, and generally felt like I had not worked too hard once the melee at the start was over. I was over an hour in the water, significantly slower than last time, but remembered the promise I made to myself to stay in the moment, and focus on the task at hand.

The bike was a fascinating ride from a physiological/nutrition perspective. I had a detailed calorie/salt goal after some great conversations with Douglas Stoddard from e-load. We based the plan on some recent sweat tests and my own goals for caloric consumption. My bottles were filled with a nearly gel-like make up of e-load, e-fly, and salt capsules. My only job on course was to take in enough water to help digest the concoction, stay hydrated, and keep my temperature under control.

The notorious winds approaching Hawi were relentless, but I did not feel as drained as I was in 2009. I think my slower swim time allowed me to sit in a legal draft position for the entire route, whereas in 2009, I found myself riding solo for all of the first 80km. I was still being passed by large packs of strong riders, and I could see literally hundreds of riders up the road. But I kept reminding myself, that this race was going to come down to the run, and backing off the intensity on the bike was the prudent thing to do. I started to feel good on my way back from Hawi. For the first time ever, I noticed there was nobody catching me. I rode almost the whole way back with two guys who worked really well, and for the most part, followed the drafting rules to the letter. The winds were in our face the whole way back, but not nearly as strong as expected. And it was only later that I found out I had biked 5:05, my fastest bike split at an Ironman ever!

The run plan was simple:
Breathe 4:4 for the first 10 miles with a focus on relaxing, and going EASY.
Walk the steep hill up Palani.
Switch to 3:3 breathing to the Energy Lab.
Then ramp it up to 2:2 and negative split the run.

Seeing a topless Maddy cheering me on with a huge sign she had drawn up, and a kiss from Ginny at the 2 mile mark made my day. I felt great. I got passed by a LOT of runners in that first 5 miles, but stuck to my plan, and was feeling confident that it was the right thing to do. I had remembered the absolute devastation I felt last time before I even reached Palani, and did not want to go through that again. Caught a glimpse of Chris, Peter, and Jeff who gave a great cheer, and lifted my spirits even more. I was doing it.

Walked Palani, while others ran by. Switched my breathing to 3:3 and caught all of them before the next aid station. There is something to be said for keeping your ego in check when you still have 16 miles of a shadeless highway waiting for you. Caught a glimpse of a pregnant Tara Norton, who gave me a really nice smile and wave once she recognized me. And watched Crowie and Chrissie put the finishing touches on their own personal triumphs.

I stopped at every aid station and willed myself to keep going, as the miles seemed to stretch out for ever in front of me. I new I was running well, but was careful to not dig too deep.

I hit the Energy Lab, and felt awful. My calf was cramping, my energy was down, and I had no idea how I was going to finish. And then it happened. The switch to 2:2 breathing was like taking the brakes off an idling car. I just started rolling. There is a digital display as you leave the Energy Lab, where family can send you note that lights up as you cross the timing mat. I chose to walk up the last little climb, so I cold see the note, and gather myself for the final 6 miles back to town. Ginny had written, "This is your time. Make it happen." And I turned the corner, and headed for home.

I don't wear a HR monitor or watch when I race at Ironman, so the only thing that mattered to me was that I would be home in time for Ginny's celebratory Birthday dinner, with the goal of breaking 10 hours. And it was all coming together. The switch to 2:2 gave me a whole other gear, and I was flying back along the Queen K, well within my goal time. Ginny had ridden out to cheer me on, and her energy lifted me, and helped me dig deeper than I ever had before. It is so easy to let the pain and fatigue gnaw away at your confidence, but having her there gave me wings.

And then the wings fell off...

With about 7km to go, while running the race of my life, and with Kailua within site, I first started to weave, then stagger, then dropped to the ground. There is about a three minute window where I have no memory at all. And then, paramedics, IVs, a ride in an ambulance, puking, barking orders to give me more fluids, and a request for some anti-nausea medication. I was taken into the care of three amazing nurses, who cared for me, humoured me, and filled me with fluids. It took over two hours before I was able to get upright, and another two hours before I felt human. It is only now, after my fourth visit to the bathroom to relieve myself again of some of the 4 litres of saline I was given, that I can sit up without feeling queazy.

I am not sure which is more disappointing. The not finishing, or being so close, and having dug so deep, only to be met with failure. I can tell you honestly that I left everything out on that course, and at some point, I hope I can look to that for some degree of solace.

[Peter O'Brien]

Andrew, I'm sorry your race didn't go as planned. 

It looks like you finished in the top 10% of your age group for the swim and bike... AT WORLDS!!! That is a stellar achievement! 

Think of all the positive things you have had... A wonderful vacation with your family, and like every race, an excellent learning experience. You are young, just think of "Big Lou Hollander"! You have many more years to race Kona again. Don't let one race ruin your determination. You are a STRONG(IRON) person, a terrific athlete, an amazing coach, and (I'm sure) a terrific father and husband.

A very intelligent person once told me "think less" ... It's time for you to sleep well to recover; don't let stray thoughts keep you up all night!

[GordM]

WOW. this is the epitome of the word 'intense'.

I cannot imagine how devastated you are right now, considering the time, hard work and pain you went through to get to where you are! I'm very sorry.

Sure you didn't finish, but you have one hell of a story to tell, you survived the mental pain, you had great times on the bike AND the swim, you stuck to your race plan, and you survived the swim. Somebody must have saw you coming and put something in the aid station water.

Ya done good, andrew!

It sounds like everything was going as plan. Is there anything that you would have done differently? you never noted how much water you did actually drink? (this could support my 'something in the water' theory)

Do you think the switch to 2:2 breathing threw something off that went unnoticed?

...you know.... just in case I ever find myself in an ironman, it'd be good to hear the answers... haha

[GinnySellars]

He's doing just fine. From the mouth of babes...Maddy's note said "Daddy, I'm sorry you were sick. I hope you had a good time before you got sick". Yup, he sure did! Recovery poolside isn't so bad.

[W Ellis]

Good stuff Andrew . When are "wings fall off" they always grow back faster....see you on the other island next week .

[GinnySellars]

Here we are, the next morning, Andrew finally sleeping, and Kona looks very very quiet.

What a day yesterday! It is most amazing to watch this event unfold. There were some amazing sights. Imagine at least 4 spectators for every athlete racing, descending upon a 500m stretch of bay. Maybe 8 or 10 thousand people walked and rode down to the start between 5 and 7am.

I found a spot to watch the start and could just imagine the collective nerves of all those people treading water, waiting for the gun. The power of the start is astounding as the front swimmers sprint off the line.

Maddy, Audrey and I watched the mayhem, then went up to Kuakini to watch the riders. We ended up right next to Peter, Chris and Jeff. All week we've had funny weather, with some rain, cooler aka 80 degree temps, some cloud cover mid-day. As Madame Pele would have it, yesterday was a scorcher. Even at 8am we were ducking for cover, trying to find any shade we could. I could only imagine how hot it would be in the lava fields.

It was such a civilized spectators morning, as we went back and played in the pool with all the other kids of athletes. Our condo is right on the run course on the 5 mile out and back section on Ali'i, so we would scoot up to the road to see the runners, and back to the pool to wait for the next set of interest. We went up first to watch the pro men. Very cool to watch Lieto start with a massive lead, then 10 miles later be way down on Alexander and Raelert. The same went with the women, with a massive lead off the bike, Dibens never returned and we watched the women changing spots over 10 miles. Mirinda is such a beautiful runner, and though Chrissie was quick, she looked like a colt...legs flying everywhere.

Andrew looked good out on the run. He trotted out easy with a plan to start the race at the top of Palani. I jumped on my bike to see him come out of the Energy Lab. He was a different guy. He didn't waste any energy to talk, and was having trouble controlling his breathing at a walk coming out of the aid station. I thought of everything positive I could throw at him, and willed him to pull it together. He found another gear and looked like a runner again. I rode down 500m sections and watched him change within a few kms. His stride length started to look super long and awkward. I thought his calf was cramping or something. His breathing looked off the hook, and he started to lurch a bit in his stride.. I decided to give him a bigger gap, worried that my cheering was making him work too hard. I waited about 750m down the road, and saw all the same guys run past...but no Andrew. After a while, the Tech Crew that grouped near me started talking about the guy who started lurching along then passed out on the road. I spun my bike around to find Andrew on the pavement with an IV already in his arm. A Med crew was driving back toward town with another guy in the back, and they watched Andrew go down. They had an IV in him within minutes, but no room to take him. They tracked down another med vehicle, but not without some hitches. Andrew got really sick. It was not fun to watch, but the crew was really good at telling me that this would all be solved with IVs and ice. Melissa Spooner just happened to be cruising out to see her athletes. I was so happy to have her company and calming words.

Well a few hours later, Andrew was released from the Med Tent. He had chubby cheeks from all the fluids, and could barely walk along. Somehow we got bikes, and bags, and us all home safe and sound.

What a nutty sport we do. Yes, Andrew has every right to be disappointed...but I am amazed and proud of his effort, and that of everyone else battling the incredible distance and environmental factors. IM is never boring, never easy, and never the same from race to race.

[dmiddleton]

Andrew, I am both amazed and stunned at your report. I feel for your defeat, however you have a lot to be thankful for and I hope you get through your disappointment quickly.  Besides you have Xterra coming up, WOW what a life you lead!!

The Middletons were in Victoria taking in the Marathon and all the festivities.  Quinn and I were checking in on the athlete tracker to see how you were doing and living the Ironman through your efforts.  Taking in the Kona experience from a spectator standpoint as Ginny mentioned would be an experience of a lifetime.  To be watching the top elite triathletes competing for World Champion status is a dream of mine.  I am amazed that anyone can complete this endurance race, and to do it in 8 hours is a testament to being “Elite”. 

The top 1800+ age groupers are also taking in this experience.  Some of them have received a lottery entry; however, most have been selected due to a qualifying time being done.  You were one of these people, just getting a qualifying spot in Kona is a feat in itself.  To be on the starting line would be an overwhelming emotional experience for me, and I cannot imagine swimming with that many people pounding and kicking and generally making you feel like hamburger.  To calm your nerves on this start line would be next to impossible, but you did it and came out of the water in a decent time, 23rd in your age group! 

Your experience reminded me of the video of Sian Welch and Wendy Ingram:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MTn1v5TGK_w.  The human spirit is amazing, and to watch these two ladies crawling across the finish was a show of how your mind and your body are sometimes not linked.  Their will to finish overpowered their bodies and pushed them to complete exhaustion.

I am glad that you are ok, that you are physically better. Scary experience for sure.

Ginny, your report just about made me cry.  I imagined myself in your shoes coming back and seeing Andrew.  I think I would have fallen apart right there, I imagined Tamalee laying on the ground or even myself with Tamalee riding back to see me.

You both are amazing people and coaches and I am so proud to have Quinn on your team.  This experience, although a hard pill to swallow will strengthen your reserves and make you a better person and COACH!!

Way to go Andrew!! Absolutely no reason to hang your head, like you said you left it all on the course!!

[Thomsen]

Hey Andrew, glad you are okay.  I knew something must have gone badly seeing the DNF on the results sheet...  Best wishes for a quick recovery.

[Majo]

Wow you gave all you had Andrew; and you should only be proud of that.  You never gave out!  You were almost there and I understand you must be so sad and disappointed, but the race results are not all: all of the process you put in place to get there is what makes you  so exceptional!  You are so dedicated to training one to perform better (including yourself :-) with particular attention to closing the gap between the newest and logical science hypothesis and the experience you gained in the real endurance sport world.  I think you are amazing and I hope you gain back quickly your confidence to accomplish what ever you decide to challenge youself with.  So keep you chin up!  Majo :-)

[Andrew]

Three days of lying on my back, watching the world go by, and allowing my body, soul and ego to heal a bit makes for some fascinating observations on recovery.

1) The recollection of pain was the first to heal. It almost seems surreal, and I have trouble grasping the true magnitude of the discomfort I pushed myself through just a few days ago. I feel this inability to remember true suffering is the only explanation for why some would choose to sign up for another event, or even contemplate stepping up to the start line again. Ginny and I have even managed to say the words "Ironman" and "2012" in the same sentence without smashing each other in the face...with a chair.

2) The oedema was the next to leave. Starting with what was likely 5-8kg of excess body water, which had third-spaced into my tissues, I have been steadily peeing more that I have been consuming over the past 72 hours. My body has literally changed shape as the cankles have subsided, and I am returning to my pre-race appearance.  This part of the recovery was helped significantly by copious amounts of e-mend, and some sage advice from Dr. Douglas Stoddard from Medion Corp. (the developer and owner of e-load branded products). There is still some serious swelling around my middle, but it is on its way out as well, and I am starting to feel like my body weight is nearly down to that of pre-race.

3) The soreness from the pounding on the Queen K is always the last residue of the race to dissipate in the days following the event. My right calf, which cramped going into the energy lab, and which I stubbornly ignored is now taking some time to remind me that the muscle damage was in fact real, and the microtears will take some time to heal fully. I am almost able to walk without a limp, though Ginny laughed at me this morning when I said I could help her carry her paddle board a half block to the beach.

4) My immune system has certainly not recovered. My daytime lethargy has been enhanced by the hacking cough, sore throat and stuffy nose that Maddy had also suffered from, and that I had fended off in the days prior to the race.

So, all in all, the recovery is well on its way. I still can't quite imagine being ready to race Xterra in 10 days, but that is still a long way off.

I can't begin to tell you how much support from friends and family I have received. Many sage words came through private messages from old friends, an addition to the notes that have been posted here. It is in times of deep despair that true friendship is appreciated even more than times of triumph. I thank you all for your support. It has meant the world to me.

[jennygayfer]

Oh, Andrew... What a remarkable story, and an amazing achievement.
I always ask the questions:

"What did I do right?"
"What would I do differently?"

It seems to me that you did almost everything RIGHT.
Have you been able to pin point what you could have done differently?
Personally, I would focus on everything preceding the last 7 miles, and feel the tremendous pride of your amazing accomplishment. You had a lot of success in Kona that you can build on in future races. Congratulations 

[Andrew]

Thank-you Jenny for the kind words and insightful questions.

The one enduring dilemma for me is what do I do with this abject failure. I had planned to retire after this Ironman/Xterra Double, as it was the culmination of five years of dreaming and planning. And now I am left with the feeling that there is unfinished business.

So, as you suggest, I have turned my thoughts away form retirement, and back to what I did wrong, and what I can learn form those mistakes.

I am not sure if I could have taken any more electrolytes in without causing serious GI issues. As it was there was a fair amount of fluids left unabsorbed in my gut, and any more calories or salt would have added to this volume.

I do think there was room for more water ingestion, especially on the bike, though I was cognizant of the need to take a bottle at every aid station (every 20 minutes), and either drank it, diluted my densely packed solution I was carrying, and poured the remainder over my head to help with cooling.

The last piece of the puzzle was my decision to increase tempo on the closing miles of the run. I had a minor cramp in my right calf, which I had managed to fight through with a small change in foot strike, and was otherwise feeling well. The tempo increase certainly increased my core temperature which may have been the key to my demise. There is some question whether my 2:2 breathing pattern was also a factor, though it is the same pattern I have used in previous marathons successfully, but never in this kind of heat. The borderline heat exhaustion, the precarious nature of my electrolyte and fluid balance this late in the race were all factors that could have been tipped out of balance with the change in breathing and tempo.

I had promised myself I would leave nothing on the course. I actually never believed I was the kind of person who COULD run themselves into oblivion. I always thought my own personal self-preservation would kick in and force me to slow down long before things became that desperate. I suppose I was wrong about that. My desire to compete for a chance to win the double over-rules my own sense of well-being, and that thought scares me a bit. I really had no right to think I should race that fast on the fairly minimal hours of training I can afford myself between work, family, and other scheduling challenges.

So, if I am going to make the effort again, it will be to finish what I started. To race the Double successfully, even if that means within my own limitations. To be happy with what my body can accomplish in a healthy state, and to spend a bit more time preparing to run in the blistering heat through more efficient preparation.

If it does happen, it won't be scheduled until 2013...at my age, I am realistic about how often I want to suffer through any Ironman event.

[SimonC]

It is said that "Time Heals All Wounds", but deep cuts to the Ego ALWAYS seem to take the longest to heal ... This I am all too familiar with that ... I'm not sure how many times I have called up The Shredmaster to come and pick up ALL my bikes after a disappointing RR as I was Never going to race again  

I still have all my bikes and I'm still racing !!!

Very happy to hear that the Guardian (aka SweatPea  ) is back in the saddle and contemplating more racing ... altho I surmised that would be the result ... in time.

I would love to hear a detailed account of how much water/product was ingested during the bike/run portions.  Also what the product was and how it was ingested ... and at what times during the race you ingested the water / product ... I have noticed during 30 deg ++ days many pro are carrying bottles with them on the run to allow for constant water ingestion.
During IMC ... I carried a bottle and drank water constantly thru the run and I am positive that if I did that at IM St G the run split would have been greatly improved.

I would respectfully argue your last statement ... "If it does happen, it won't be scheduled until 2013...at my age, I am realistic about how often I want to suffer through any Ironman event."
A quick scan of recent IM's worldwide reveal that several 40+ Age Groupers are doing sub 10 hr races ... this can also be said of the 50+ yr age groupers as well. Age is just a number nowadays and as everyone knows, if you choose, you could continue to race sub 10 hr IM's well into your 50's. I do however recognize that it also takes a great amount of sacrifice in terms of time and family life ... which is always the most difficult. But in terms of a physiological shelf life ... you still have a few good years left in you ... But make no mistake ... you are still an old fart ... just a very fast one.  

And from a selfish point of view, you still have to provide me with an opportunity to beat you up in an IM race   2012 IMC is as good as any ... See you in the water  

Capt'n  

[Andrew]

Well cap'n, talk about throwing down a gauntlet!!! It would be an absolute pleasure to toe the line with you and go head to head. For 2012, it may have to be in Osoyoos at the Half, as Super G and I are contemplating Ironman Wisconsin in September, with an eye on a return to Kona in 2013.

Your observations on the fast 40+ failed to mention there were three guys in my age group who went sub 9:01 in Kona this year!!! Over 20 that went sub 5:00 hours on the bike. It was certainly an easier year in terms of wind and less heat, but incredible performances none the less.

The race day nutrition plan was...
6 scoops e-load, 4 scoops e-fly and 20 zone caps in each of two bottles that were consumed throughout the ride. At every aid station (roughly every 20 minutes) I took a bottle of water and drank 1/2 to 2/3 of it, or poured it into my aero bottle to dilute the fuel mixture I carried in the two bottles on my seat tube. I was able to consume all of the fuel mixture, with very little GI distress, though I did go roughly 45 minutes at one point taking in only water, when I had over done the fuel in the first 60km. By the end of the ride, was down to just the last dregs of fuel mixture, and I was actually feeling quite fresh heading into the run, having not really felt like I had pushed too hard in the closing km of the ride.

The run was a mix of water and coke for the most part, though I did take two gels from aid stations at mile 11 and mile 16. I walked part of each aid station in the opening miles, and notice form my splits I was actually increasing my tempo over the second 5 mile journey back along Alii. My next splits were slower, but this was due to my planned walk up the steep hill on Palani, and longer walks through each aid station, where I took on water, the occasional gel, small sips of coke, and sponges to help cool my core and head.

Again, it seemed like a flawless plan, and the only glaring mistake I made was trying to run beyond my ability in the closing miles. Had I realized the pace I had maintained to that point (even with the long walk breaks giving me a 9 minute/mile) would have allowed me to cross the finish line in 9:40, I would have stuck with that plan. As it was, my brain was already being taxed, and I thought I had to really increase my tempo if I was going to break 10 hours. And that was when the irrational thoughts of "racing" got in the way of my usual approach of listening to the signals my body were giving me.

[Luker]

What can I say Andrew, that hasn't already been said?
What you did on the Queen K was amazing and incredibly hard to comprehend! As I can remember from experiences of 24hr racing, the pain you go through during the race quickly disappears from memory and you are left with the vague visions of what your brain chooses to hang on to.  I am sure you are feeling better and better everyday, physically and mentally.  Don't dwell on what could have been because it was as it was.  You had a plan, you executed it to a tee, and when you were faced with finishing a good race, you choose greatness!!

I look forward to chatting about the details of the day with you soon.  But as for now, bring yourself back to living the dream out there in HI!  You are too good at this sport to entertain any ideas of failure.  Racing is just something we do to stay focused on the lifestyle of healthy living. 

I'll chat with you soon!
Luke